The Heart of a Daedra revived
by The Grey Knight v2
Summary: Continuation of The Heart of a Daedra on my other profile The Grey Knight, we return to the story of Sjern Volz and his friends who must rise up, raise an army and recruit an old veteran of the past to help them. Slightly altered but the main story is still there. For a better idea of what's going on, read The Heart of a Daedra on my The Grey Knight profile. Thanks guys!
1. Chapter 1

The Heart of a Daedra  
By The Grey Knight v2

_Well, it has certainly been a long time coming my friends. Many of you who read the first few chapters of this will probably glance over this thinking it is some other story. Sadly, I had to cease my writing of the Heart of a Daedra due to my purchasing of a new computer and my own foolishness of forgetting my password and email. On top of that, I'm in my Leaving Certificate year in school (any Irish readers will know what that is). But I decided I'm going to try and revive this fanfic once more and finish it._

However, I have a favour to ask. If any of the readers of the first instalment of this fanfic are reading this, especially those who submitted any OC's who are not yet included in this story that aren't in the reviews section. I realise I'm most likely forgotten about by this stage and that's perfectly understandable, but if you guys are willing to give a fool another chance, I would love to write for you all again.

Talos guide you all! Peace 


	2. Chapter 1 (real chapter 1)

The Heart of a Daedra revived  
By The Grey Knight v2

Chapter 1 (15):

After three days of travelling, they finally reached Ivarstead, the small town at the foot of High Hrothgar. Sjern knew Tullius did not fully trust this idea but if it worked out, then Skyrim would at last be united. That's all Sjern wanted when it came to who ruled Skyrim, an outcome that would leave no divisions.

"Is everyone alright?" He called back to the group following behind him. Tullius and Rikke asked to stop briefly to rest, while Serana, Shadowfang, Infernus and the newest addition to Sjern's followers, Knight Zacharias Ascheric of Camlorn, all expressed wishes to forge on. Apologising to the Legion soldiers, Sjern adjusted the strap of his belt and continued on to the foot of the Seven Thousand Steps. As they climbed, the wolves that would usually have tried to tear Sjern's throat out seemed to back away due to the presence of such large numbers.

'_Or maybe it is just Zacharias?' _Sjern thought. The knight was not much of a talker but still he gave off a powerful aura, letting any who came near know that he would not take jesting lightly. Sjern knew from first hand experience just how strong the knight was and he barely engaged him in sword to sword combat, the knight seemed to prefer a defensive stance whilst fighting. One of patience and timing, where he would wait for the opponent to slip up then make them pay. As brief as there battle was, Sjern knew how powerful Zacharias had been and he didn't even break a sweat. Sjern wasn't even sure if he could break a sweat. Zacharias had been the first opponent Sjern had faced that made him truly doubt whether he was powerful enough. Sure Harkon and Sunclaw were devastatingly powerful but they had the blood of vampires in them. Knight Zacharias was powerful without mystic blood in his veins. The knight was a conundrum that Sjern had yet to figure out.

When they finally reached High Hrothgar, Sjern turned around to look at everyone. Serana was standing as she usually did, with her hood up and arms folded, Infernus was wringing his hands nervously, Shadowfang was gazing at the magnificent temple in awe, Zacharias was simply looking straight ahead and the two Legionnaires that they had escorted were trying to catch their breath.

"I'm sure there is no need to remind anyone that the Greybeards are four of the most powerful users of the Thu'um that I have ever come across. If any of you should do anything to displease them, you shall be Shouted into Oblivion. Now, in we go."

Turning once again, Sjern walked through the massive doors on the right hand side, Serana going in after him then everyone else following suit. Arngeir was there to greet them as soon as they got in the door.

"Welcome Dragonborn and friends of the Dragonborn. I am Master Arngeir, speaker for the Greybeards and Master of the Thu'um. I sincerely hope you are all here for the reason Jarl Stormcloak has told me, otherwise I may have to ask you all, with the exception of the Dragonborn of course, to leave."

Sjern shook his head and quickly explained that they were indeed there for peace talks. Arngeir seemed pleased with this and indicated for them to follow him. Doing so, Serana striding alongside him, Sjern entered a grand room with a large stone table with a burning fire in the centre of the room. Already seated at the table, were Ulfric Stormcloak and his trusted General Galmar Stonefist. Neither man did much else other than to greet Sjern and Serana, and give a curt nod towards all else who had entered. Sjern sat in the middle seat at the back of the room so as not to be mistaken for taking sides. Serana and Shadowfang sat on his left whilst Infernus and Knight Zacharias sat on his right. Arngeir took the seat opposite Sjern while Tullius and Rikke sat opposite Ulfric and Galmar. To Sjern's surprise, two more figures entered in after all had taken their seats. Lady Elsyif the Fair, Jarl of Solitude and widow to the late King Torryg, and Ralof, the Stormcloak who had helped Sjern escape from Helgen so long ago.

"Forgive me General but I realised that you cannot speak for Solitude alone. I sent my most trusted soldier to escort Lady Elsyif here with the instructions that any harm befall her would result in great pain for young Ralof here." Ulfric quickly explained.

Tullius merely nodded, stood and pulled out Elsyif's chair for her to sit beside him. Ralof took a seat beside Galmar, opposite Elsyif. Sjern looked at both parties, the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. Galmar was looking Tullius dead in the eye while Rikke eyed up Ralof. Elsyif merely folded her hands and was looking down at them slightly timidly. Ulfric was the only one to look to Sjern to speak first. Clearing his throat, Sjern stood up.

"Very well," he began "I won't bother with introductions really, most people in here know who the others are. What we are here for today, is to come up with something, _anything, _which will stop this pointless, bloody Civil War."

At his words, Tullius opened his mouth to speak but Sjern barrelled on.

"Lady Elsyif, I realise you loved Torryg and you miss him dearly, as does Tullius. Ulfric, what you did may have been Nordic tradition but that does not shelter the fact that you brought the Civil War upon these lands. However, during my time in Sovngarde, I met various Nord Heroes. One of them being Torryg himself." Elsyif gasped while Tullius and Ulfric's eyes widened. "Aye, it is true. His words to me were brief but not a day goes by, even in Sovngarde, that he does not miss you Elsyif. Nor does he despise you Ulfric, however, he does question whether your honour is truly intact now. His words, I will not lie, were not useful in deciding how to end this war, but I hope they give a grieving wife comfort and a proud Nord food for thought."

Pausing to allow everyone time to soak in all he had said so far, Sjern quickly continued speaking once he saw Galmar about to make a statement.

"What I propose today is this. The Imperials and the Stormcloaks will disband completely. Both armies will sheathe their weapons, remove their armour and discard it." Once again, Sjern continued speaking once Tullius tried to speak. "There will be no negotiating who gets what Holds, nor will there be any squabbling over the cause of Torryg's death. Both sides show no difference in opinion other than who should be High King or Queen of Skyrim. Neither Elsyif or Ulfric shall be High King or High Queen. There are only two others whom I believe can benefit Skyrim. One is in hiding while the other lives in this great temple."

Sjern looked directly at Arngeir who immediately shook his head.

"I am honoured you would consider me Dovahkiin, but I am old and tired. As mighty as my Thu'um is, I have never wished to rule even over a mouse."

Sjern nodded, expecting this.

"Then I shall send a messenger to Shadowgreen Cavern. That, I feel, is where our new leader resides and has done for the past 200 or so years. He is a brave warrior, a mighty mage, a master tactician and a true hero. Ralof, would you and Rikke be so kind as to deliver a simple message to the one you find in Shadowgreen?"

The young Stormcloak nodded. Sjern thanked him, then looked expectedly over at Rikke, who sighed heavily before also agreeing to go.

"Very good." Sjern said, taking a roll of parchment and a quill from the table and scribbling a short message as well as directions to Shadowgreen down. Rolling the parchment back up, he handed it to Ralof, who tucked it into his belt before standing up and, Rikke following closely behind, set off towards Shadowgreen. With the two gone, Sjern turned his attention back to Tullius and Ulfric, both of which were staring intently at Sjern.

"Is something wrong?" Sjern asked them.

Tullius finally had his chance to speak.

"Of course there is! You are asking us to throw an age of warring away without so much as an argument. By all accounts there can be no other High King or Queen other than a Jarl of Skyrim! Now you expect to break that tradition for some old fool you believe to be mighty? How do we know we can trust this man Dragonborn? Answer me that!"

Sjern smirked and shook his head.

"Because it is not just some old fool who I speak of General Tullius. The one I refer to is none other than the Champion of Cyrodil himself. The Hero of Kvatch and Bane of Mehrunes Dagon, Jar'mey. True, he is not a Nord nor is he a Jarl but he is a true Hero of Tamriel, blessed with the gift of immortality for his deeds. He is in Skyrim now, to help defend us from a prophesised attack on our land. I can think of no one better to lead us in a time of impending war with the Daedra then the one who all Daedra fear."

Spreading his arms, Sjern raised his voice slightly.

"Have ye not heard of his mighty defeat of Mankar Camoran, of his refusal to abandon the last in the line of the Septims, of his gathering of the Crusader's Relics, his defeat of Umaril the Unfeathered, his entrance to and conquest of the Shivering Isles and of his mighty blade, Warmonger, that cut down over a thousand Daedra in its time? So you ask me can you trust him Tullius? No, you cannot. Nor can you trust me for that matter. But you have believed in me so far General, if I am deserving of your belief then he is ten times more deserving of it."

Sjern's speech seemed to win Tullius over as the Imperial General merely nodded his head and leaned back in his seat. Ulfric, who had said nothing up to this point, said only one thing.

"You trust this warrior Dragonborn, which is good enough for me. He is a Hero of old songs and tales and should he be willing to take on the role of High King, then I shall follow him. I ask only one thing in return for my loyalty." Ulfric paused and clapped Galmar on the back. "That myself and Galmar, along with any others you or he see fit, be allowed to keep our current titles and help lead Skyrim's great army against the Daedra threat that Talos himself spoke to me of."

Sjern nodded, seeing no reason why this should be a problem. Looking at Tullius, he waited for an answer. Tullius simply stood up, walked around the large table and grasped Ulfric's hand.

"Both myself and Lady Elsyif agree to these terms on three minor conditions of our own. First, that Lady Elsyif remain Jarl of Solitude, second that I, alongside Jarl Ulfric and Galmar, help lead our army and third" He paused at this, as if weighing up whether or not to request it. "That the High King find some way, any way at all, to rid Skyrim of the Thalmor. For too long have we lived in fear of those meddling bastards! It's time Skyrim was set free of that particular shadow!"

Sjern grinned slyly.

"No need for the High King to do that, General Tullius. Myself and my friends will take care of the Thalmor. While they may be great in numbers, even they aren't foolish enough to march against a province that has just gained unity as well as the backing of the Champion of Cyrodil and the Dragonborn. You simply leave that part to me."

_Well, it has been such a long time guys! I'm so sorry that I've been…. Well, dead pretty much. I hope at least one of my old readers is out there just for old time's sake but if not welcome new readers! If you haven't already, I suggest you check out the first fourteen chapters of this fanfic under my original name, The Grey Knight, simply so you fully understand the whole story. Hope you guys enjoyed and if you did, a simple review saying nice or not bad helps me immensely. Thanks again guys. Talos guide you all! Peace _


	3. Chapter 2

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight v2

Chapter 16: _Jar'mey's POV _

Slowly, he approached the unsuspecting deer. The venison that he would collect from it would feed him for a few days and the hide could be sold for a fair price for some salt and firewood. Drawing the string of the Elven bow back, a sharply tipped arrow of similar variety nocked, he took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Just as he was about to loose the arrow, the loud thump of running footsteps sounded from behind him. Spinning expertly on the spot, he saw, only a few metres away, a young Dark Elf wearing leather armour and hefting a Dwarven War Axe run straight for him. Firing the arrow into the abdomen of his would be attacker, he quickly drew another from his quiver, nocked it and fired again, hitting the Dunmer in the chest, just above his heart. The Dunmer shrieked in pain before crumpling to the ground, causing the deer behind Jar'mey to bolt off quickly, leaving the Champion of Cyrodil very displeased.

Marching over to the fallen Dark Elf, the mighty Orc grabbed him by the scruff of his cuirass and lifted him easily with one hand.

"By the Nine! What do you think you are doing boy?" Jar'mey roared, his deep guttural voice ringing around the mountainside.

The Dunmer coughed violently, spurts of blood splashing Jar'mey's white tunic.

"Lord… Dagon decreed" he was stopped once again by a violent fit of coughing. "He decreed that your life…. be forfeit so as…. to fill the Great Gem with the blood of a Hero!"

Before Jar'mey could ask anything further, the Dark Elf began to cry out in pain, as if red hot stones were embedded in his flesh. Then, a deep, quite familiar voice rang through the air.

"You have failed Saransas! What is more, you informed Him of our Great Plan! I now decree your own life to be forfeit, a poor substitute for that of the Champion!"

The Dunmer began to convulse and splutter loudly. Then, in a bright flash of purple light, the Dunmer stopped breathing and went limp. Letting go of the Dunmer's cuirass, Jar'mey stood quickly, realising the time was getting ever nearer. Picking up his bow, he ran straight for the entrance to Shadowgreen Cavern, the place he now called home.

When he got inside, things had gotten from bad to worse. The fauna that had allowed him passage, the Sabre Cats and Wolves lay dead on the ground of the naturally beautiful cavern. Looking over at the clearing where his camp was set up, he saw two figures, one clad in the armour of the Legion, the other in the armour of one of those Stormcloaks, fighting Vald, the old Cave Bear that Jar'mey had befriended through his blessing from the goddess Kynareth. Vald was swiping powerfully at the two intruders but they were too fast for the old bear to defeat alone. Roaring in anger as the Legion warrior buried her blade in Vald's throat, Jar'mey drew his Daedric dagger and ran towards the two merciless killers of his friend.

The look on their faces was first of surprise, then of fear, as the powerful form of the Hero of Kvatch bore down on them. Simultaneously dropping their weapons, both raised their hands high and dropped to their knees. Not caring why they were there nor for the fact that they had just surrendered, Jar'mey ran full pelt into the Legionnaire, his knee connecting with her jaw, sending her tumbling backwards. Foolishly, the Stormcloak jumped to his feet and tried to wrap his arms around the enraged Orc's thick neck to restrain him. Jar'mey simply reached back with one hand, seized the Stormcloak by the hair and tossed him clean over his head, sending him crashing into his Legion counterpart.

Glaring down at his foes, Jar'mey, simply out of respect for his own moral code, allowed the two warriors to clamber back to their feet. When they made no move to attack, he spoke to them, his voice echoing in the cavern.

"Explain yourselves now!" He roared, causing both of them to jolt with fear. "Before I rend you both limb from limb."

The Legionnaire stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the ground.

"We did not come here to cause conflict, mighty Champion of Cyrodil. We merely saw that you had foul beasts invading your-" and that was as far as she got. For as soon as she referenced Vald and the other animals as 'foul beasts', Jar'mey interrupted.

"Those _'foul beasts'_ of which you speak, were my only companions in this land! You murdered all of them, so I ask you again. Tell me why you are here."

At his words, the Legionnaire's eyes widen in shock.

"Forgive us Champion, had we known we would never have dared to-"

"By the Nine woman! Answer my question!" Jar'mey yelled, interrupting once again.

She gulped before continuing.

"We are here to present you with a message from the Dragonborn. It is of utmost urgency that you read its contents immediately."

She held her hand out to her Stormcloak companion, who handed her a roll of parchment, tied with a small string. Approaching him slowly, the Legion warrior handed him the parchment before scurrying back to her companion's side. Removing the string, Jar'mey unrolled the parchment and began to read.

It read:

_To the esteemed and powerful Champion of Cyrodil, _

_Firstly, I would like to apologise for not being available to deliver this message myself. _

_Skyrim, as I am aware you know, is about to face her greatest challenge to date. We have come to the conclusion that neither the Stormcloaks, nor the Imperials are fit to lead in such a time, nor is it wise to have just finished a Civil War only to be faced with a Daedric invasion. Therefore, by mutual consensus, we have all agreed that Skyrim should be led as one nation, under one High King. The question of who that High King should be was an easy choice for me. Therefore, if you are willing, we would be honoured if you would assume the role of High King of Skyrim and lead us through these difficult times. As sudden as this may be, Great Champion, it is essential that we receive your reply as quickly as possible and indeed, in person, if at all possible. _

_Hopefully, we will meet soon._

_Yours truly,_

_Sjern Volz, Dovahkiin. _

Not believing his eyes the first time, Jar'mey read through the message again. When he was finished, he couldn't believe it. True, he was a Hero of old. One whose name accompanied many a song or tale but to be High King of Skyrim? It was absurd. Surely the Dragonborn would serve as a better leader during a war. Then again, he had heard stories of the Dragonborn's modesty. He would never assume such a role, for one so powerful should not rule. While Jar'mey was powerful _and _immortal, he could still be killed in battle like any other being. He was nothing amazingly special such as being Dragonborn or Nerevarine. He was a normal, well almost a normal Orc. Nonetheless, he never expressed a wish to rule.

"I will meet with the Dragonborn. Where is he now?" Jar'mey asked.

The young, blonde-haired Stormcloak quickly told him that the Dovahkiin was currently at the Greybeard's temple of High Hrothgar. He quickly added 'My King' at the end of his sentence but Jar'mey merely waved it off saying.

"I never said I agreed, I will meet with the Dragonborn to discuss this. My mind, however, is not made up yet."

With that, he walked over to the wooden chest that stood beside his Sabre Cat pelt bed roll and removed a large bundle, wrapped in brown cloth. Unwrapping the cloth, it revealed his old weapons. Northwind, the enchanted Akavirii katana he had claimed from an ancient Blade, the Sword of the Crusader, the Divine Blade with which he had slain Umaril the Unfeathered and finally, the blade that every song and bard's tale revered, an old Ebony longsword, enchanted with the Wizard's Fury spell as well as being magicka resistant, Warmonger. Making his choice carefully, he lifted Warmonger and the Sword of the Crusader from the cloth and carried them over to a small hollow at the back of the cavern. There, he pressed his hand against a small black rock, which caused the large boulder behind it to roll to the side, revealing three armour stands.

The first held a simple set of Steel Armour. The very same set that Jar'mey had worn when he entered the Oblivion Gate at Kvatch. The second had a set of Madness Ore Armour, from his time in the Shivering Isles, and the third held his signature armour set. The Armour of the Crusader. While it was very old and not as powerful in terms of the materials used in its creation compared to Daedric Armour, it was Jar'mey's favourite set. It was the only thing in the world that kept him connected to the Divines and to the memory of his old friend, Martin.

Taking his white tunic and brown pants off first, he put on the Greaves, followed by the Boots, then the Cuirass went on next, followed by the Gauntlets and finally, with a moment's hesitation in memory of Martin, Jar'mey put on the Helm of the Crusader. Sheathing Warmonger in a scabbard slung across his back and the Sword of the Crusader in its own sheathe, Jar'mey turned back around to the Stormcloak and the Legionnaire.

"Very well, let's go meet the Dragonborn."

_Alright, hope this chapter isn't too bad! I won't be constantly shifting to Jar'mey's POV (for those of you who do not know, Jar'mey is my first Oblivion and Elder Scrolls character ever created so he's in this fanfic, hope ye don't mind!) but I thought it might be interesting to do a chapter like this. Let me know what you think guys! Talos guide you all! Peace _


	4. Chapter 3

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight v2

Chapter 17: _Sjern's POV _

Sjern was sitting back in the stone chair in the meeting room where he had somehow ended the Civil War in Skyrim. Both sides seemed pleased and mere minutes after his promise to deal with the Thalmor, General Tullius and Lady Elsyif set off back to Solitude to get the word out that the Civil War was over. Ulfric returned to Windhelm alone as well, having sent Galmar, at Tullius' request, to speak to the Orc Chieftain in Mor Khazgur, an Orc Stronghold, to ask them to use their excellent smithing skills, as well as those of the other Strongholds, to craft the armour for the Army of Skyrim. Ulfric and Elsyif would then send word to all the smiths of the major cities to help the Orc's to carry out this immense task.

Now Sjern was sitting alone, spinning one of his Daedric daggers on the tip of its blade, hoping against hope that the Champion of Cyrodil would accept their offer to become High King. He did not want to leave until he had an answer from the Champion, just in case the great Orc should arrive shortly after his departure.

'_I sincerely hope Ralof and Rikke have not offended him somehow.'_ Sjern thought, knowing how hasty both the young warriors could be.

Letting the dagger spin out one last time, Sjern got to his feet, sheathed the dagger and walked out to the main hall. There, meditating silently was Arngeir and Roki, both with their eyes shut and mouths moving but making no sound. Knowing it was not wise to interrupt a Greybeard during meditation, Sjern decided to walk out the back door of High Hrothgar, where his friends were all practising individual skills. Serana had her eyes closed and was swinging her sword with a certain grace that told Sjern that it was planned and not just mindless swiping, Infernus was calmly engulfing himself in silvery flames, disappearing and reappearing at random points around the courtyard, Shadowfang was sparring with Knight Zacharias. Sjern decided to watch the sparring session for a while before getting into his own training.

It was clear that Knight Zacharias was the better swordsman, but Shadowfang was making up for her lack of skill with her amazing speed and strength. She would jab at him then quickly leap to the left or right and swipe at his side, meaning the Knight was constantly on the defence. Something wasn't entirely right however, Zacharias wasn't attempting any form of counter attack, leading Sjern to believe that he was merely baiting Shadowfang. A few minutes later, Sjern's theory proved true. As Shadowfang got in close to swipe at the Knight's face with her claws, Knight Zacharias hefted his shield, causing Shadowfang's claws to simply scratch off of it. Then he took his chance. Shield-bashing the young Khajiit, knocking her back a few steps, he began slashing at her with his steel longsword, putting her on the defensive for the first time. It wasn't until he had forced her back until she had her back to the large gate that he showed her what he could do. Raising his sword as if to attack, he tricked Shadowfang into raising Chillrend to defend herself, then, while her attention was on his own blade, he kicked out at her feet, knocking her to the ground. Standing tall over the defeated Khajiit, he held the tip of his blade at her throat and simply said:

"You were a worthy opponent, Khajiit. May your foes tremble upon catching sight of you."

Zacharias sheathed his weapon and walked away after that, leaving Shadowfang looking rather disappointed that he had turned the fight around so easily. She cheered up slightly, however once Infernus called her over to practise some spells with him. Meanwhile, Sjern had been so engrossed in Zacharias and Shadowfang's sparring session, that he didn't notice Serana standing beside him until she spoke.

"He's a bit of a mystery, that Knight Zacharias, isn't he?" She asked Sjern.

Sjern nodded. "He seems to be useful in a fight though. I don't know how he does it. It's like he waits and waits until you reveal your weakness and then he exploits it. On top of that, the man never seems to tire at all. It's like he's on a constant fatigue potion."

Serana simply chuckled.

"What?" Sjern asked, not getting the joke.

"You really don't see it?" Serana asked. When Sjern shook his head, she chuckled again. "He's undead. Well, technically he's undead. He has all the physical features of an undead but it's almost as if he's a normal man in the body of a Draugr or something."

Sjern was shocked. He knew there was something different about Knight Zacharias but until now he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Making up his mind then and there, he told Serana he'd be back in a minute and walked over to the Knight, who was calmly watching Shadowfang and Infernus practise their magic. When he caught sight of Sjern, he turned his attention to him.

"What can I do for you Dragonborn?" He asked.

Sjern took a deep breath. "Forgive me Knight Zacharias, but I would like to know if you have a tale to tell. I would be quite interested if you would like to share it."

Sjern couldn't see his face as it was hidden by the helmet, but he could tell that Zacharias was burdened by his story.

"Very well Dragonborn. Sit, and I'll tell you." The Knight began.

Sjern sat down on a nearby rock and looked over at the Knight, who sighed before starting.

"Though I may not look it, I was once a Breton of High Rock. My family was of low nobility and we lived in relative comfort. My own father was a knight like myself and one of the bravest men I've ever known. He trained me in the art of close combat. He, however, being a noble and righteous man, made a few enemies of the darker art of Necromancy and one night, as we all lay asleep, one particular band of Necromancers stormed the castle using summoned Atronachs. My father woke first, smelling the smoke from a fire and he immediately woke my mother and I. My mother was told to stay hidden and I was to guard her while my father fought the Necromancers and their Atronachs. For a while, we heard nothing but the occasional scream until finally, my father opened the door. My mother, in her grief, didn't realise it, but my father had been killed somehow and reanimated by the final Necromancer, so when she ran to embrace him, he ran her through with his sword. The spell must have ended then as I watched him turn to dust. The man who had raised me, taught me to wield a blade and fought so valiantly, turned to dust by a Necromancer. Then, he walked in. I still remember his expression, one of pure victory. He fire-balled my sword from my hand and cast a Paralysis spell on me. Using Telekinesis, he lifted my body and transported me back to his hideout in some ruined old castle. There, under constant supervision from his apprentice, I was experimented on.

For two years, this happened. I had flesh seared from my body and replaced with the grey hide you see now. But one day, the last day of the second year, something went wrong. The Necromancer accidentally killed me but when he cast the reanimation spell, I was fine. I was better than fine, I felt new. I soon found that I had gotten a lot stronger and my stamina levels had increased exponentially. I could run the length of Skyrim twice over and not get a little fatigued. What was more, anytime I was killed, I would quickly reawaken in my body. The Necromancer's magic had left a mark on my very soul and from then, I could not die.

There was one major problem however. The Necromancer had gotten inside my head and held full control over me. For five whole years, I did that evil man's bidding. I razed villages, murdered soldiers, destroyed crops, whatever malicious thought entered his head, I carried out. Finally, the Necromancer had been found out by a group of adventurers who wanted to collect the bounty on his head. When they burst into the room, the Necromancer made a fatal mistake. He ordered me to kill everyone in the room. As I was… am technically undead, I was exempt from this. I killed the three adventurers but, still bound by his orders, without him realising it, I now had to kill the Necromancer. I approached him slowly, my sword still drawn. Then, before he knew what was happening, I skewered him multiple times and left him for dead on the floor. I put away my sword, grabbed a shield from one of the wall displays and left that accursed castle for good.

I came to Skyrim, hoping to reconcile for my misdeeds while I looked for a cure for my condition. I helped anyone and everyone who asked for my aid. Then, the other day as I was wiping out a Bandit lair that I had come across, I met the first man since my father who could hold his own against me. That was you Dragonborn, and you know the rest from there."

Sjern was shocked and appalled but at the same time, he couldn't help but admire the Knight. He had gone through so much in his life and still he retain his sense of what was right and wrong. He wanted to atone for his past crimes and would not stop until he had.

"That... that was a tale unlike any I have heard, noble Knight. I commend you for what you have endured and I want you to know that everyone of us here will help you find this cure should you so wish. You have lived long enough with this curse and deserve your rest."

Zacharias simply nodded and thanked Sjern. Just as he was about to speak, he was interrupted by a deep, gruff voice.

"Well Dragonborn, I understand you sent for me."

Sjern spun around and, sure enough, standing there in the middle of High Hrothgar courtyard, was Jar'mey, the Hero of Kvatch and saviour of Cyrodil.

_Alright guys, hope you liked this chapter. It's not very action packed but I had to give Knight Zacharias some focus. If you guys are wondering, he is an OC submitted by Raex for the original fanfic and every piece of his back story comes from his own mind. Definitely a great OC._

Now, I have, once again, a favour to ask. As you all know, I lost a lot of information on this fanfic. I had background info on Daedra OC's who would be playing the main villain. So, I ask a huge favour once more of my readers. 

_I need a Daedra guys. And not your typical red and black, Mehrunes Dagon servant. I mean I need a truly powerful, completely evil and malicious being of… well anything that's bad. Go crazy, make him/her/it a normal character granted the status of a Daedric Prince (think of an evil Talos) but he/she/it cannot be invulnerable. I know Daedric Princes are meant to be invulnerable but what I need is a Daedra with the power and status of a Daedric Prince, but still mortal. _

_You can submit your OC's through the review section or through a PM. As I did the last time, if I receive more than one excellent OC, I will put it to you all to vote for your favourite and the winner shall be the main adversary… adver-sary…..advers-ary… the main dick of this fanfic (sorry, I'm a Little Kuriboh fan xD). But honestly, the winner will be the main villain of this fanfic. Here's the list of requirements. _

_I need:  
A name/nickname: e.g Dras (also known as the Destructinator) _

_A unique feature: e.g He can summon an army with a clap of his hands._

_Weapon/weapons: e.g Twin Daedric battleaxes. _

_One major weakness: e.g he's clumsy. _

_One major strength: e.g he's 12 foot tall._

_A reason why he'd want to destroy Tamriel: e.g He's a devout follower of Dagon._

_And finally  
His one Lieutenant: e.g A Dremora Kynreeve with enhanced strength and one-handed skill. (Basically someone to be a major fight before the final fight.)_

Thanks again guys, I look forward to seeing your OC's. 


	5. Chapter 4

The Heart of a Daedra revived

By The Grey Knight

Chapter 18:

"Well Dragonborn, I understand you sent for me."

Sjern spun around and, sure enough, standing there in the middle of High Hrothgar courtyard, was Jar'mey, the Hero of Kvatch and saviour of Cyrodil. Nodding solemnly, Sjern walked over to powerful Orc and extended his hand for the Champion to shake.

"It is truly an honour that you grace us with your presence esteemed Champion." Sjern said, as he shook the Cyrodilian hero's hand. "Long have I hoped that I might get the chance to speak with you."

His face hidden by the Helm of the Crusader, Sjern couldn't say much about the Champion's reaction to this, however when the Orc spoke, his tone was almost cheerful.

"It is an equal honour to meet another of Tamriel's great heroes. Do not deny Dragonborn, you have saved Skyrim, and indeed Tamriel far more times than I have. I only stopped Umaril, Jyggalag and Mehrunes Dagon. You however, defeated Alduin, Miraak, Lord Harkon, Queen Potema and now you finally achieve equal peace in this land. Truly I am the lesser of two heroes here."

Sjern couldn't believe it. This great warrior, vanquisher of three almighty quests, two of which were actual Daedric Princes, believed himself a lesser to Sjern. Just as he was about to deny these claims, Jar'mey cut across him.

"On to business however. Your….. associates here" indicating Ralof and Rikke "tell me you are in need of a High King. Before I make up my mind, I would like to know a few little things. Firstly, why choose me Dragonborn?"

Sjern shook his head, expelling the previous conversation from his mind.

"You are an obvious choice, Champion. You have over two centuries of experience in dealing with major affairs. Furthermore, we need a High King who is wise, militarily sound, stable and willing to enter the fray alongside his men. I have heard enough tales of you Champion to know you far surpass these requirements."

Sjern's answer seemed to appease Jar'mey but he still had questions.

"Secondly, how have you come to know of this great threat Dragonborn?"

Sjern sighed and got straight into the story of how he and his friends had denied the followers of Dagon the Razor and thwarted their plans. He also spoke of his own witnessing of the prophecy. When Sjern went back and spoke of the fight with Sunclaw, he noticed the Champion tense up.

"Sunclaw? That unholy, sick minded, vampiric beast?" Jar'mey asked, his voice getting gruffer as he spoke.

Sjern nodded.

"Blast her to Oblivion! By the Nine Dragonborn, our task may well be more difficult than I imagined. The prophecy you mentioned witnessing will soon come to pass Dragonborn, but you were wrong. The four objects of which you speak, the Great Welkynd Stone, the Great Sigil Stone, the Daedric Artifact and the Blood of a Divine are all what they need to enter a Realm of Paradise. It is there that they will carry out the true ritual. It is there that they will use three far more powerful ingredients to open the pathway for the Secluded One to be freed from his imprisonment. I know nothing of the Secluded One, Dragonborn but I know that if we do not stop his return, Tamriel is finished."

Sjern was amazed at how much the Orc knew.

'_A High King with this knowledge would surely rule well during a time of war would he not?' _Sjern thought.

"You spoke of three more powerful ingredients, Champion. Have we any idea of what they are?"

Jar'mey sighed deeply. "Aye lad. Three ingredients thought to be nigh on impossible to achieve. The first, while still rare, is the easiest. The blood of a True Hero of Tamriel. I myself was ambushed in their quest for this ingredient. The second, the blood of a Dwemer. Crafty little buggers they were. They knew the importance of their Race, and instead of risking it, they took one for all of Tamriel and either hid in complete seclusion, or committed suicide. Finally, the third ingredient is the Weapon of a God. Now I know what it is that you are thinking, why can't they claim the Sword of Talos? There's a simple answer lad. It's lost to the ages. The last living person to know of its location was Talos himself and no one, not even his most devout followers, can even imagine where he left it. But if it was to be found, there will be no stopping them from releasing the Secluded One.

I vowed long ago that I would never accept a position of power due to my immortality. It seems that in order to save my world, I must break this vow. To answer your request of me Dragonborn. Yes, I will assume the role of High King. I will do my very best to lead this great land to victory and glory against the Daedric threat. I only request that you give me three days to contact an old friend of mine from Cyrodil."

Sjern saw no reason why he couldn't contact his friend but still he wondered over who this friend could be. The Champion was well over two hundred years old, surely all of his friends were dead. Nevertheless, Sjern had succeeded in his first promise. He had secured a High King for Skyrim, one both Stormcloaks and Imperials could unite under. Now all that was left to do was deal with the Thalmor threat.

"This should be fun!" Sjern said aloud, as he signalled for Serana, Infernus, Shadowfang and Knight Zacharias to come on over.

_Ok, short chapter I know but I'm getting a bit of mental block so I needed to just sit down and write out this stuff quickly. I can almost promise that the next chapter will have some action in it and I hope to bring back someone we met before. _

_I just want to let you guys know that the submission request for OC's is still up. I'd like to thank Romancehowler (AGAIN!) for their submission and regardless of how the vote turns out if there's any more, I will definitely be using this OC as a major villain either before or during the War. _

_Thanks once again for reading guys, if you enjoyed a simple "good job" or "not bad" review always helps morale __. Talos guide you all. Peace!_


	6. Chapter 5

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight

Chapter 19:

The two Thalmor guards at the front gate of the embassy quickly noticed Sjern's presence from afar. Drawing their weapons, they readied themselves for a battle with the Dragonborn scum. To their surprise however, Sjern walked over, his hands held up in a sign of peaceful intention.

"Don't attack!" He cried, getting closer. "I come peacefully on behalf of the new High King of Skyrim!"

The Thalmor couldn't believe what they were hearing. Skyrim had elected a new High King? Madness, surely the Dragonborn was drunk or on skooma.

"Don't come here with your lies, Dragonborn. If there was a new High King, we would know about it. He cannot be crowned without our co-operation."

Sjern simply smiled. "Oh but there is a new High King. A name all Thalmor should be _very _familiar with."

As Sjern spoke, a second, even taller figure approached the embassy. He wore the fabled Armour of the Crusader and walked with a strong step. Both guards gulped in fear but stood their ground.

"No one is allowed pass!" They said simultaneously, as the warrior in the Crusader Armour stopped beside Sjern. "We will die before allowing you passage."

Sjern sighed and looked at Jar'mey who simply shrugged.

"Pity" Sjern said before turning back to the Thalmor guards. "FUS RO DAH!"

The powerful Shout threw the two guards back into the gate to the embassy, taking it clean off of its hinges. Drawing BattleSong, Sjern calmly stepped over the bodies of the guards, whose skulls had been crushed on impact with the gate, and walked up towards the second pair of guards, followed closely by Jar'mey. Stopping a few metres away, Sjern stopped, stepped aside and indicated for Jar'mey to go first.

"Champions first!" The Dragonborn quipped.

Jar'mey grunted, drawing the Sword of the Crusader, hefted his Shield and approached the guards, who were now running towards him, Elven Swords drawn. Ducking and weaving to avoid the first slash at his neck, Sjern watched as the powerful Orc reversed his hold on the Crusader's Sword, so that the blade pointed behind him and, without looking back, drove it through the spine of his attacker. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled the Sword out of the guard, flipped his grip on it back to the normal way of wielding and blocked the second guards attack. Bashing him thrice in the face with his Shield, dazing the guard, he lunged forward, burying his Sword in the Elven warrior's chest. When both combatants had fallen, Jar'mey turned around to see Sjern, watching amusedly.

"I suppose it's my turn now is it?" Sjern asked him, earning nothing more than a grunt from the Orc.

Sjern walked up to the front door to the embassy, Jar'mey standing beside him, the Crusader's Sword in his hand. Leaning back slightly, Sjern lifted his foot and kicked the door open. Inside were five more guards who immediately tried to stop the two intruders. Hacking and slashing away with BattleSong, Sjern soon dispatched two of the guards. When he turned to take on another, he found Jar'mey had already killed them and was now walking towards the door behind the bar. Through the door, a Khajiit chef noticed them walk in, swords drawn. Throwing his hands in the air in surrender, he quickly ran out the door, past Sjern and Jar'mey who simply allowed him to escape.

"Come on" Sjern said, leading the way again. "I've been through here before, I know the way."

Walking through the door, Sjern found himself in a familiar room. This time however, there were no Thalmor. Finding this strange, Sjern's mind went on full alert.

'_Something isn't right here.' _He thought. _'The last time I was here, the Thalmor were like flies to fire on me.' _

A few short minutes later, still with no confrontations, Sjern and Jar'mey finally reached the back door out to the courtyard. Once he opened the door, he finally understood why there were no Thalmor inside. About seven Thalmor were being torn to shreds by a very familiar figure. She clawed, kicked and drained the health from them quicker than a Whirlwind Sprint Shout. When she was finished, she looked Sjern dead in the eye. Laughing maniacally, Sunclaw called over to him.

"Well Dragonborn, it seems fate has led you to me once more. What a pity you're all alone, I would have enjoyed tearing my sister's throat out."

Sjern, while still being cautious, chuckled at her last statement.

"Oh no Vampire, not alone."

He moved aside, allowing Jar'mey to step out into the small courtyard. When Sunclaw saw the Champion, she shrieked fearfully.

"YOU!" She roared, extending a finger to point at the Orc.

"Hello Sunclaw, not happy to see me?" Jar'mey asked.

Shrieking again, the Vampire Khajiit began to transform into her Vampire Lord form. To Sjern's surprise, Jar'mey sheathed the Sword of the Crusader and turned around to him.

"Go Dragonborn! I can handle this filth!"

Sjern was about to protest when Jar'mey flicked his wrists and a large dome of energy surrounded him and Sunclaw. Sjern tried to get through but the dome was pure energy and began sapping his magicka. Seeing no other option than to continue on, he wished the Orc well and jogged across to the next door.

_*Jar'mey's POV*_

"Divines protect me. Help me slay this ungodly beast."

Jar'mey still had his back to the Beast-Vampire hybrid when she lunged at him. Time seemed to slow as she did as Jar'mey reached up, seizing Warmonger by the hilt. Spinning on the spot, drawing his mighty blade as he did, he snarled loudly from within the Crusader's Helm, his blade slashing diagonally across Sunclaw's chest eliciting a scream from the Vampire. Knowing how powerful this particular creature could be, Jar'mey raised his shield and waited for her to strike. Instead, Sunclaw floated back towards the other side of the dome.

"Blast you Jar'mey! You could have been a God! You could have joined us and received far greater reward than any you could possibly imagine!" She screamed angrily.

Jar'mey shook his head solemnly.

"I could not stand idly by while you and your Master tore this realm to pieces, Sunclaw. Tell me, why are you so angry at Tamriel? What have these innocents done to you to make you like this?"

The Vampire-Khajiit said nothing but merely glared at him.

"Ah, I understand now. You are in this for power and glory. But there is no glory to be won from the slaughter of innocents Sunclaw! True power and glory is earned, not taken! But if you intend to pursue this path, then I must cut you down!"

He raised Warmonger high, the tip scraping off of the top of the dome, and rushed at Sunclaw, who had already rushed at him a mere moment before. The two powerful creatures clashed, claws bouncing off of his Shield, Warmonger slashing through the air and shrieks of pain coming from the Vampire Lord. As powerful as she was, Jar'mey was just as, if not slightly more powerful than her. His two centuries of training and meditation had given him almost perfect prowess in battle and quick reactions with which he could evade or block almost any attack.

Forcing Sunclaw back towards the end of the dome of energy, Jar'mey relentlessly sliced and stabbed at his foe. While she dodged and blocked numerous attacks, he did manage to pierce a hole through her left wing as well as cut her deeply on the arm of the same side. Eventually, he had her pushed up against the back end of the dome, her undamaged arm pinned by his shield and sharp edge of Warmonger pressed against her neck.

"You won't kill me, Champion." Sunclaw jeered, looking him dead in the eye.

Snarling, Jar'mey pressed Warmonger even tighter against her neck.

"Don't test me, Vampire. You wouldn't enjoy the result!"

Laughing maliciously, Sunclaw played her trump card. Beating both her wings powerfully, she dissipated into a cloud of bats and flew past Jar'mey. Spinning on the spot, the Champion of Cyrodil barely had enough time to swing Warmonger as Sunclaw materialised right in front of his, her good arm outstretched, trying to seize him by the neck. There was a sickening sound of blade on bone, a quick spurt of blood and an inhuman shriek of pain from Sunclaw as Jar'mey's fabled blade sliced her right arm clean off just below the elbow joint. Her severed arm fell at his feet before turning into a pile of dust at his feet.

Clutching at the stump she now had for an arm, Sunclaw wailed in pain. Looking at Jar'mey with her eyes full of both tears and hate, she cursed him. Then, just as he was going in for the final blow, a staggering blast of energy launched him backwards, destroying the dome he had created. Unfazed, the Orc jumped to his feet and looked over at where Sunclaw had been hovering. Somehow, she had teleported away from the courtyard to safety. Deciding to be cautious, Jar'mey closed his eyes and, using a technique the Moth Priests had taught him, he tuned in to his surroundings. When he was sure that he was alone in the courtyard, he sheathed Warmonger and proceeded to follow the path that Sjern had taken minutes earlier.

_*Sjern's POV* _

Meanwhile, the Dragonborn was making his way past the fallen bodies of Thalmor who had been brutally torn apart by Sunclaw. Climbing the wooden staircase however, he could hear raised voices coming from one of the offices of the Thalmor.

"Your guards are all dead Elenwen, it would be wise to surrender before _she _gets here."

The voice sounded oddly familiar to Sjern, yet he couldn't quite place it. The second voice, he knew well however.

"I…. very well then. I surrender myself, and the forces of all the Thalmor to your cause."

Not waiting for the first voice to speak again, Sjern rushed towards the door and kicked it open.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The Shout echoed throughout the small office room and the two figures inside were thrown against the back wall. Looking at their faces, Sjern instantly recognised both of them. The first, of course, was Elenwen, ambassador of the Thalmor. Her face was slightly bloodied, as if she had been struck multiple times. What really stood out for Sjern however, was the fact that she was not wearing her Thalmor robes. Instead, she looked like she had been roughly stripped by the second figure, down to her undershirt and silken night shorts.

'_The sick bastard must have tried to rape her!' _Sjern realised quickly.

Looking down at the second figure, Sjern quickly recognised the features of Falenth Sdran, follower of Mehrunes Dagon. For some reason, he felt it necessary to try and win over the Thalmor to Dagon's side. Not wanting to be surprised by him again, Sjern quickly bound him using a Paralysis spell, before taking pity on the Altmer female and healing her facial wounds.

Elenwen woke with a start to find the Dragonborn with his hands hovering over her, healing her. Despite this, she still tried to kick him away from her vulnerable form.

"Get back you Nordic filth! Don't dare touch me!"

Sjern knew there was no point in arguing and stopped his healing. Stepping back, he looked down on the thin frame of the Altmer.

"What did he want with you?" Sjern asked.

Elenwen simply spat at him before trying to stand. Not in the mood for games, Sjern drew BattleSong and held the tip of its blade at her throat.

"Just because I healed you Thalmor, does not mean I am letting you go. You will do exactly as I say and then, and only then, will you be free to leave."

The fear in the Thalmor Ambassador's eyes was palpable.

"W-what do you want, D-Dragonborn?" She asked, her voice trembling.

"First, you will tell me why this scum is in one of your offices. After that, you will formally surrender to the High King of a United Skyrim and tell your superiors to withdraw the Thalmor from this land."

From the look on her face, Sjern knew the Thalmor took him seriously. She quickly explained that Sdran and some strange Khajiit female had stormed in, killed all of her guards around the back and forced her into this small office. From there, the Dunmer had torn off her robes in order to place her in a more vulnerable position. He demanded that she surrender the Thalmor of Skyrim to Mehrunes Dagon. When she refused, he struck her repeatedly. Then asked again, this time getting a more 'positive' response. That was when the Sjern burst in.

"As for this new High King, who is he? When on earth did the Moot meet to elect him?" She asked.

"They didn't" came a gruff voice from behind Sjern. "I was elected due to my status around Tamriel and my neutrality in the Civil War."

Jar'mey stepped into the office, looking down, first at the paralysed Sdran, then at Elenwen.

"The people of Skyrim should be allowed to live in prosperity, not fear. As the High King, and yes it is official, I hereby banish the Thalmor from these lands! If you're superiors wish to march on Skyrim, if they wish to engage in war with us, know this Thalmor. I am the one who stopped Mehrunes Dagon, two hundred years ago. I defeated the Prince of Order, Jyggalag and defeated Umaril the Unfeathered by gathering the Crusader's Relics. This man here, as I'm sure you know, is the Dragonborn. Bane of Vampires, saviour of Skyrim and Solstheim and master of the Thu'um. Two of the greatest warriors and heroes to exist in Tamrielic history leading an army of Imperials and Stormcloaks against you. I wouldn't really think you could win."

And with that, the new High King of Skyrim turned and walked out of the office. Sjern took one last look at Elenwen before raising BattleSong. The Altmer flinched and tried to shield her head, waiting for the death blow, but it never came. There was a swish of a blade, a slight thump and then silence. Opening her eyes, she looked over at the Dragonborn, who had just severed the head of Falenth Sdran right there and then. As he walked away, he left her with one final message.

"Heed the Orc's words Elenwen. It would be for the best."

_Phew, finally got this chapter done! The fight between Sunclaw and Jar'mey must have been rewritten at least six times until I was happy with it. While Jar'mey makes Sunclaw seem feeble and weak you must remember, she did defeat Sjern, Infernus, Serana and Shadowfang alone. I just wanted to highlight the power Jar'mey has. Also, her flight ability was limited by the dome so she was restricted. Once again, I want to thank Romancehowler for that character as well as her Daedra submission. I'd also like to thank WolFang1011 for his Daedra submission. _

_I've made an executive decision (basically I was too flabbergasted by both these submissions). I will be using both these Daedra OC's, giving them their own Planes of Oblivion. As stupid as this sounds, they will be main villains for Sjern's friends or something. Sjern and maybe one of the group will take on a Daedric Prince of my own creation. So, apologies to those who may have wished to send in their Daedra, but the request ends here guys. I'm 100% positive anything you guys had planned was amazing but I don't want to have to choose between three or four excellent Daedra so I'm gonna have to stop it. _

_Thanks for reading guys! Talos guide you all! Peace _


	7. Chapter 6

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight

Chapter 20:

The road back to Solitude, seat of the High King was relatively easy due to the location of the embassy, just west of the capital. Although he had just walked through a Thalmor embassy with the Champion of Cyrodil, Sjern still felt as if the Orc was far more powerful than he let on. Sunclaw, a powerful enemy that he himself, along with three other powerful companions, could not defeat, Jar'mey had done so in a matter of minutes and unscathed at that. Pushing the thought from his mind, Sjern decided to initiate conversation.

"Are you nervous?" He asked Jar'mey, talking about his impending coronation.

The Cyrodilian sighed as he walked.

"About as nervous as one can be after two hundred years of being in hiding." He stopped and looked at Sjern. "These people may not accept an Orc as High King. They will want a Nord or Imperial to sit upon the throne. Who is to say that they will listen to me Dragonborn?"

Not expecting this, Sjern just shook his head.

"I cannot say for sure that they will all accept you immediately. But Orcs are not hated in this land. At least, not the Race. Obviously you can get Skooma dealers or Bandits who are Orcs. But these people will know that you are an honourable Orc, by the Nine you wear the Divine Relics as your chosen armour. If that is not proof enough for them to trust you, then I do not know what is."

Sjern's words seemed to put Jar'mey at ease. The powerful Orc started walking again, catching up with Sjern.

"Thank you Dragonborn. This great honour you do me will not be forgotten."

Sjern nodded firmly and the pair walked on in silence as the gates of Solitude came into view. The usual two guards stood proudly on either side of the gate, their Imperial swords sheathed. Nodding in greeting to Sjern, they allowed him and Jar'mey easy access into the city. As the gate closed over, one of the guards nodded again and said,

"Good to have the High King return to his throne."

Sjern smiled to himself, Elsyif and Tullius had obviously spread word of the new High King around Solitude at least. Many of the passer-bys would stop and wave heartily to their new King, greeting him both formally and informally. When they passed the Solitude Blacksmith, Beirand rushed over from his forge, a small, beautifully crafted dagger in his hand.

"My liege, as pointless as this gift may seem, I saw it fitting that the first gift you should receive should be from Solitude herself. I spent many an hour in the crafting of this fine dagger. May it serve you well Sire."

Accepting the dagger, Jar'mey thanked the smith, assuring him that it would be on his belt at all times. This seemed to please the smith, who bowed his head before returning to his forge. Attaching the blade to his belt as he said he would, the new High King of Skyrim continued past the blacksmith's. The walk past the Castle Dour was more of the same. All that had changed was the armour the soldiers now wore. Rather than the Imperial Armour, the soldiers now trained in their normal clothes, waiting for the universal set of armour that the army of Skyrim would receive.

Walking past Proudspire Manor, Sjern pointed to the oaken front door.

"My own manor in this city. Cost me a mere twenty thousand gold."

"A home fit for a Hero." Jar'mey replied, looking at the residence of the Dragonborn.

When they finally reached the courtyard of the Blue Palace, a small surprise was waiting there for them. The Jarls of Skyrim as well as Infernus, Shadowfang, Knight Zacharias, Serana, Arngeir, Galmar Stonefist, General Tullius and a tall, bulky Nord wearing the Companion's Wolf Armour. The Nord didn't look at all familiar but he held himself in a way that suggested some form of nobility but with a hint of a wild streak. His eyes were bright yellow allowing Sjern, who knew what that colour of eye meant, to deduce that he was a Werewolf, quite like himself. With a pang, Sjern's thoughts immediately drifted to Aela once again.

_Sjern was in the mead hall of Jorrvaskr, sitting alone with a bottle of Nord mead and a slice of bread. Hearing the door open, he turned his head, merely to see the door swing shut with no one nearby. Standing up and drawing one of his Daedric Daggers, he looked around the mead hall. As he looked to the right, a blurred figure slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. Groaning in pain, he looked at his attacker, who now had a dagger to his throat. _

"_Gotcha again Sjern!" Aela taunted victoriously. _

_Sjern laughed at the she-wolf's taunt, realising he should have expected it to be her. They were always trying to catch the other off guard. _

"_Not this time woman!" Sjern replied, knowing of Aela's hatred of being called 'woman'. _

_Rolling to the left, he threw Aela off of him and pounced back up to his feet. Quickly rushing over to her, he kicked her dagger from her hand, drew his second Daedric Dagger and stood over her. _

"_You have to be quicker my dear. Otherwise this wolf will be on the prowl for another day." _

_Chuckling, he sheathed his dagger and offered her a hand up, which she accepted. Getting very close to him, the master archer of the Companions whispered. _

"_You got me this time Dragonborn, but what happens if I sneak in on you whilst you sleep?" _

_Smirking, Sjern simply replied. _

"_Then you'd better be ready for a fight Aela, I'm a light sleeper." _

_His words earned him a laugh from the she-wolf who stepped back a little. _

"_We'll see about that. I can be quite… disarming when I want to be." _

_And with that, she retreated down to her quarters, hips swaying as she walked. _

Pulled from his reverie, Sjern realised everyone was looking at him.

"Is everything alright Dragonborn?" Jarl Balgruuf asked him.

"Yes, forgive me I was merely daydreaming. What were we talking of?"

It was the tall Nord who replied.

"We are waiting for you Dragonborn. The coronation is being held up due to your _daydreaming_."

Apologising again, Sjern indicated for everyone else to go in before him. Serana however, waited behind, clearly wanting to talk to Sjern. She stopped him from entering the Blue Palace, her arms folded and foot tapping.

"Is something the matter?" Sjern asked her. "Have I done something wrong?"

Serana shook her head sadly, despite her posture, she clearly was more upset than angry.

"I…. I have a request Dragonborn. I…. I want to be mortal."

Sjern was shocked. Surely she didn't mean what he thought she meant.

"I'm going away for a while Sjern. I have some things I'd like to take care of. There's a man in Cyrodil, ancestor of Melisande, known curer of vampirism. Should everything go well, I will return to Proudspire Manor and send you a message. There is a chance however, that this will be the last time we see each other."

Sjern could feel a lump build in his throat. After all they had been through, all the adventures and quests, she was leaving for Cyrodil. He understood why but he couldn't help but feel just a little bit angry that she would do this. Just as he opened his mouth to try and speak, Serana completely surprised him…. by kissing him. Her lips were soft but they had a strange, exhilarating taste off of them. Then, as quickly as it happened, it ended. Serana stepped away from him, her eyes laden with tears. With a final word of farewell, she strode away from the Blue Palace, leaving Sjern broken-hearted for the second time in his life. Dropping to his knees, he bowed his head and simply allowed the tears to fall.

"Farewell Serana. May your path lead you back to me someday."

_Yes, yes I know what you're all thinking. "Da Hell was that bro?" _

_I thought this story needed an attempt at a sob story. It's not my best piece of work, and it is very sudden, but that's how some of these things happen. You fall in love, then one day, they go off to another country to try and cure their Vampirism. Anyways, if you read the reviews you probably already have an idea of who that Nord guy is. Thanks to Speedster101 for his OC and thanks to everyone for reading._

Talos guide you all! Peace 


	8. Chapter 7

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight v2

Chapter 21:

'_She's gone.' _Sjern said to himself in his head. _'She's gone Sjern, there is nothing you can do about it. Get up, come on now. Get up you fool! GET UP OFF THE GROUND NOW!' _

As he warred with himself inside his own head, he didn't notice the doors to the Blue Palace opening once more and the tall Nord who had been insolent earlier on stepped outside. Walking over to Sjern, he rested one hand on his shoulder tentatively.

"Is everything alright Dragonborn?" He asked.

Sjern found he could not speak, the lump in his throat prevented him from doing so. Instead, he just shook his head sadly, not in the mood for any pretense.

"What happened? That girl who waited outside, what happened to her?"

He knew the Nord wasn't trying to pry, nor was he being rude or intrusive but Sjern's mind was fragile at this point in time. His best friend, the one whom he had always trusted and counted on, was now gone for Stendarr knows how long. When no response came from him, the Nord took it as a bad sign. Rather than leave Sjern to his thoughts however, he sat down beside him and looked at him.

"You cared for that girl, didn't you Dragonborn? Why did she leave? Did she not feel the same way or was it something else?"

Finally, Sjern found his voice.

"It was something else. She needed to go and do some soul searching, she doesn't know when she will return however. It's just hard to think that she's gone."

"I lost my own mother at a young age. She was murdered by a corrupt Imperial Guard after she refused his advances. He framed her for the theft of over fifteen thousand gold, taken from the White-Gold Tower most likely by that bastard. I wasn't there when she died Dragonborn. I never got to say my goodbyes, nor did my father. All we got was her dead body dumped at our doorstep a few days later, the document condemning her to death pinned to her chest. My father, who was a Moth Priest, was heartbroken and began shutting himself away for hours at a time, studying the Elder Scrolls. He still showed me affection and care but he was not the same man he had been when my mother was alive. What I am saying Dragonborn is this. You got to say goodbye to your friend, you have a chance of seeing her again. As bleak as things look now, they could be a lot worse. I'm not here to tell you to forget her and get up on the horse again, I'm only here to say that there are positives to every story. For instance, if my mother had not been murdered, I would never have come to Skyrim and met my own wife, Ria. I'm sure your friend will return and the time you two lose now will be more than made up for."

The Nord's words comforted Sjern.

'_He's right, she wouldn't be wallowing in self pity like this. We've a blasted war to win!' _

Getting slowly to his feet, Sjern extended his hand for the Nord to shake.

"Thank you kind sir. I know not what I would have done had you not spoken to me."

The Nord simply waved it off, saying "It is no problem Dragonborn. No one should be left alone in a time of pain such as that. I'm afraid that is not the reason I am out here however. The others sent me out to find you, Jar'mey's coronation is about to begin and he requested you be there to see it."

Nodding, Sjern released the Nord's hand and, without another word, strode in the doors of the Blue Palace.

_*Elsewhere*_

"My Lord, the Dragonborn has convinced the Jarl's to crown the Cyrodilian Champion as the new High King of Skyrim. I tried to stop him but he was too powerful for me. Never before have I been faced with such power."

Sunclaw was knelt before an old sarcophagus, intricate carvings and inscriptions in Daedric tongue adorned it. Though the sarcophagus remained closed, a booming voice echoed throughout the room that hid it.

"So, the old Orc has returned from his seclusion. No matter, soon I shall have enough power to return to my physical form. Then, Champion or no Champion, Skyrim and the rest of Tamriel shall fall!"

Sunclaw nodded, still kneeling.

"Yes my Lord, however, the Jackal and the Argonian are not ready to breach Nirn just yet. Their forces are not strong enough. I would travel to Darkshroud and Doomsgates but my arm my Lord, was severed in my battle with the Orc!"

Her master was silent for a while. Then, a bright red light illuminated the entire room. A ball of red energy began to form over the sarcophagus, drawing its power from the light. When it was finally formed to no more the size of a Daedra Heart, it shot forward, colliding with Sunclaw's chest. Roaring in pain, she clutched at her chest and tumbled backwards down the stone steps, leading up to the sarcophagus. When she finally stopped falling, she allowed her breathing to settle before opening her eyes. What she saw astounded her to the verge of tears of joy. Where there had once been a stub of an arm, there was now a solid Daedric metal arm. If she had not known she had lost her arm, she would have said it was a Daedric Gauntlet that reached to her elbow. Flexing her new appendage, she picked up a nearby skull and squeezed, cracking it into splinters with ease.

"Oh thank you my Lord. Thank you. I shall travel to Darkshroud immediately. Fear not my Lord, Skyrim shall surely fall within the month!"

_I really want to apologise for this heap of rubbish guys. It's like that other chapter, I just needed to get it written so I can push past writer's block. As per usual with my 'just get it down on word' chapters, not much happens. We get Sjern's reaction to Serana's departure as well as a minute glance at the Secluded One. Once again, I am really sorry guys. Hopefully this block gets broken down quickly. Thanks for reading guys, also thank you to Romancehowler, Raex, WolFang1011, Speedster101 and Dragonswoe for their OC's who will be back in the next chapter. Talos guide you all! Peace _


	9. Chapter 8

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight

Chapter 22:

Back in the Blue Palace, things were going a lot better for Sjern than they had mere minutes beforehand. He now accepted Serana's choice to try and find the cure and while he was still hurt by her departure, he felt he had made a friend in losing one. The Nord, Marcus, had brought him inside and apologised for the time it had taken for them to return. No one really seemed to mind and all warmly welcomed Sjern. Within minutes, Jar'mey was officially crowned High King of Skyrim and the mead was broken out. Sjern noticed that Shadowfang, Infernus and Zacharias clearly knew something was up, especially with the absence of Serana, but thankfully none pressed him for details. Instead, Jarl Black-Briar walked over to him.

"Greetings Dragonborn, it has been a while." The Jarl of Riften commented.

Bowing in respect to the powerful Jarl, Sjern greeted her in return.

"Jarl Black-Briar, always a great pleasure. I hope business still goes well."

The Jarl's eyes flashed mischievously.

"Indeed it is mighty Dragonborn." She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. "Of course you know why, don't you?"

Nodding, a small smile on his lips, Sjern knew all about Maven's dealings with the Thieves' Guild and the Dark Brotherhood. As corrupt as it might have looked, she never hurt any small time businesses, and the one competitor she did put out of business through illegal means was being funded by the traitor, Mercer Frey.

"I trust you are in good health nonetheless Dragonborn?" The raven-haired Jarl asked him.

"Aye, as good of health that any adventurer could be Ma'am. What think you of the unification of Skyrim?"

The Jarl smiled once again, sipping at her mead.

"As surprising as this may sound Dragonborn, I cared not for the War. My only thoughts are business and my Hold. However, this rumoured Daedric War seems to be bad for business so I, along with the other Jarls will indeed be how would you put it? Suiting up is it? Yes I quite like that. We will be suiting up alongside everyone else in Skyrim to help repel this evil force."

Sjern nodded. He knew the Jarls would have to enter the fray during the Daedric War, a show of leadership on a more local level for the soldiers. He also knew that they would be wearing the same armour as the rest of the army of Skyrim so as to not rank them higher than others on a battlefield. In fact, one of Jar'mey's first orders of business as High King would be to select the armour that his land's army would be wearing in the upcoming battle.

Sjern bade Jarl Black-Briar farewell and walked over to his friends, who were clustered in a corner. Only Shadowfang and Marcus had drinks in their hands, Infernus and Knight Zacharias merely stood beside them.

"I don't expect a Knight to drink but I will not ignore common courtesy and still offer a drink to you. Will you accept?"

Zacharias simply shook his head.

"No Dragonborn, I have no interest in the partaking of inebriating liquids. However, I do appreciate the offer. Not many would have done that."

Accepting his response, Sjern turned to Infernus who beat him to the punch.

"I'm fine too Dragonborn. I like to keep my wits about me just in case-"

He was cut off by a courier sprinting in at full pelt, screaming at the top of his lungs.

"OBLIVION GATE OUTSIDE OF SOLITUDE! OBLIVION GATE OUTSIDE OF SOLITUDE!"

For a moment, a split second, there was silence. Then, chaos erupted. The Jarls began shouting and running around mindlessly. The courier had sat down on a bench and begun to cry. Sjern's eyes found Jar'mey, who was already on his way down the steps from the throne of Solitude.

"Dragonborn!" He called over to Sjern. "Ever taken down an Oblivion Gate?"

Sjern shook his head as he and the others, Marcus included, made their way over to the door.

"Well you're about to learn first hand how to do it!" Jar'mey roared over the commotion.

Following the Champion closely, Sjern began to doubt himself. He had traversed Sovngarde, stormed Castle Volikhar and made his way through Apocrypha but he had never taken an Oblivion Gate. By the Nine he'd never even laid eyes on one.

When they reached the Winking Skeever, Jar'mey took off at a run towards the main gate, Sjern following closely behind, Infernus and Shadowfang running alongside him and Marcus and Knight Zacharias bringing up the rear.

What greeted them outside the gate of Solitude, was a colossal demonic portal with five Dremora standing guard outside of it. Expecting Jar'mey to slow and approach cautiously, Sjern slowed himself to a forward strafe, his friends doing the same. The High King however, had other ideas. Drawing both Warmonger and the Sword of the Crusader, the powerful Orc picked up speed and attacked the Dremora with such ferocity that Sjern almost pitied them. Within seconds, three severed Dremora heads and five lifeless bodies surrounded the Champion. Just as he was about to call Sjern over, the Oblivion Gate portal began to change colour. Going from a demonic red/orange to a bright green, Sjern knew, despite his lack of experience with them, that this was no regular occurrence. To everyone's surprise, a booming voice came from the portal itself.

"THIS GATE IS BUT ONE OF MANY THAT WILL BREACH YOUR WORLD! NOT EVEN THE HERO OF KVATCH AND VANQUISHER OF MY OWN KIN SHALL BE ABLE TO PREVENT IT! YOU RAISE AN ARMY TO DEFEND YOUR LANDS AND THINK YOURSELVES UNBEATABLE WITH THE DOVAHKIIN ON YOUR SIDE? BUT THE DOVAHKIIN IS BUT A MAN AND NOTHING MORE! LIKE ALL MEN, HE CAN BE CORRUPTED! WATCH, PEOPLE OF SKYRIM, WATCH AS YOUR MIGHTIEST FALLS TO MY POWER!"

Knowing this couldn't be good, Sjern drew BattleSong and waited for some horrible creature to burst out from the portal. Instead, however, the portal began to shake and the green turned an even darker shade. Without warning, a powerful sphere of pure energy, shot from the Oblivion Gate and caught Sjern right in the centre of his chest. Dropping to his knees, BattleSong wrenched from his grip, Sjern could feel a dark presence try to break through his mind.

'_Give in Dragonborn. You cannot stop this from happening, but you can join us. You can rule over Skyrim, Cyrodil or anywhere that you wish alongside the Daughter of Coldharbour! She can be your Queen and you a mighty King! Imagine it Dragonborn! A world shaped to your own whims! All of this can come to pass if you just slay the Orc! Slay the Orc Dragonborn and know true power!' _

Sjern would have been lying if he said the offer was not tempting to him. Not the aspect of ruling so much as having Serana by his side with no one to bother them. He was almost inclined to take up BattleSong and attack Jar'mey when a small voice spoke to him softly.

'_That is not who you are Sjern! You vowed to defend Skyrim with your dying breath, not rule over it with a monster.' _The voice slowly began to get louder in his head, gaining dominance over the harsher, Daedric voice.

'_You promised yourself that you would protect Serana! Do you think she would want anything to do with you after you gave in to the Daedra? She'd rather die than be seen ruling by your side as a traitor! Do you think a woman, as powerful and beautiful as her, would be seen in the company of a monster? Of course you don't, it isn't you considering this, is it Sjern? It's the Daedra! Well fight it then! If not for your own sake, or for Skyrim's then for Serana's sake, fight it! COME ON SJERN! FIGHT IT!'_

With a roar of anguish, anger and pain all mixed into one, Sjern seized BattleSong, drew his arm back and launched Aela's old blade at the Oblivion Gate. The blade stuck in the frame of the Gate, causing a large fracture to appear. Taking the opportunity presented to him, Jar'mey raised both of his fabled blades and jammed them into the same fracture, widening it even further. Ripping all three blades out simultaneously, the Orc cried over to Infernus.

"BLAST THAT THING WITH ALL YOU'VE GOT FIRE MAGE!"

Nodding confidently, Infernus began to run forward, both of his hands engulfed in the silver flames. Right behind him, raising Chillrend, was Shadowfang. Before either could make it to the portal first however, a single exploding crossbow bolt struck then fracture and left an even wider scar on the Gate. Jumping through the air, over Infernus' head, Shadowfang landed in front of the Listener, swung Chillrend horizontally and sliced the crack wide open. Moving out of the way, she watched as the Breton thrust both of his hands over the fracture and roared powerfully. There was a huge blast of flames, a loud scream of pain and then it was over.

Infernus was still stood, both his hands outstretched as they had been seconds before, Shadowfang was on her back but seemed to be alright and Jar'mey was crouching behind his Shield, clearly knowing the destruction caused by a destroyed Oblivion Gate. Standing up straight, Jar'mey sheathed both his weapons before picking up BattleSong, walking over to Sjern and holding it out to him.

"They once called me Bane of the Daedra, Dragonborn, because I entered an Oblivion Gate and removed its source of power, the Sigil Stone. They would be a lot wiser to give you that title now. I could hear him trying to corrode your mind. I could hear his arguments that would have enticed a lesser man. We all could. I was sure I was in for a fight with the Dragonborn when I heard him order you to slay me. What none of us heard was how you fought him off." Helping Sjern up, the High King handed him his blade.

"A true warrior, Dragonborn, is one who is just as sharp with a blade as he is with his mind. You were stronger this very day, than I have ever been in my two hundred years and over time in Tamriel. You may not know it, but you have proven that the will to defend Skyrim is unbreakable in you and that is the most powerful weapon you could possibly wield."

Sjern nodded, his head still ringing from the intrusion on his mind. He knew the voice that had saved him from the Secluded One, every Nord knew it very well indeed. If he was not mistaken, it was the voice of Tiber Septim, or Talos, the Ninth Divine. Why he had defended Sjern's mind rather than tear down the Gate confounded Sjern but he was grateful nonetheless.

_'Thank you Lord Talos, your aid may have salvaged our chances.'_ Sjern prayed silently.

"Come Dragonborn, we have a lot of work to do and very little time to do it in." Jar'mey urged, clapping Sjern on the back. "You can rest for the day if you wish. Tomorrow, we start planning our defences."

_Alright, pretty happy with this chapter. Again not too much action but they destroyed an Oblivion Gate and Sjern seems to have Talos on his side. Next chapter should be up within the next few days so keep an eye out guys! Thank you once again to Romancehowler, Raex, WolFang1011, Speedster101 and Dragonswoe for their OC's. If I left anyone out by accident I apologise and thank you so much to you too. Hope you enjoyed this chapter guys! Talos guide you all! Peace __J_


	10. Chapter 9

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight

Chapter 23:

Sjern awoke in his bed in Proudspire. Getting out of bed and stretching, he recalled the previous day's events. He had almost been corrupted by a Daedra, had been saved by the Ninth Divine and had helped slightly in the destruction of an Oblivion Gate. While his head no longer throbbed, he still felt weak. The Daedra had entered his mind far too easily and had it not been for Talos, he would have listened to the Daedra.

"Blast it anyways!" He roared, punching one of the dressers in front of him.

Hearing someone rush up the stairs, he looked around for his weapons. Not even his Daedric Daggers were in sight.

'_Looks like I'll have to Shout him into submission!' _Sjern thought, readying himself.

To his surprise, it was Shadowfang who burst in the door, garbed in fine clothes rather than her usual armour. She was a lot more slender than he previously imagined. How such a thin frame could deliver such strong blows he did not yet know.

"Are you alright?" She asked, most likely having heard his exclamation.

Sjern nodded and rubbed his eyes, which were heavy with fatigue.

"Aye, just a rough day yesterday. A brisk walk to the Palace should clear my mind." He replied.

Shadowfang smiled and told him that breakfast was ready.

"Infernus and Zach are waiting for you downstairs."

Sjern was confused. "Who in the blazes is Zach?"

The Khajiit smiled widely.

"Oh that's my name for Knight Zacharias. Bit boring don't you think? Zach suits him much better."

A voice came from downstairs.

"He says he can hear you Ebonyclaw! I'd be careful."

She giggled at Infernus' message.

"Well, can't win 'em all can you?" She said, walking out of his room.

Sjern shook his head, smirking slightly. Walking over to his wardrobe, he flung the doors open. Taking out his white tunic, black vest and beige pants, he quickly got dressed and went downstairs. Sitting at one of the tables was Shadowfang, Infernus and Knight Zacharias. Infernus and Shadowfang were eating cooked fish while the Knight simply had his hands wrapped around an Amulet of Stendarr.

Sjern bade them a good morning, grabbed a piece of bread and told them he was going downstairs. None of the three tried to stop him or go along so he walked down uninterrupted.

"I'm going to need at least a chest plate and boots on me from now on." Sjern decided, looking at the two different sets of armour on the mannequins. One held a complete set of Dragonplate Armour while the other held his set of Blades' Armour.

"Well, what better way to show that I am Dragonborn, than to wear a set of armour made from my fallen foes?" Sjern said aloud to himself.

"You're not going to need armour Dragonborn." A voice said from behind him.

Panicking once again, Sjern seized the Daedric War Axe that had been mounted on the wall and readied himself for a battle. When he turned however, he found himself facing the High King himself. He was still in his Crusader's Armour but he had the Helm tucked underneath his left arm.

"Today we decide on the armour for Skyrim's Army. There are only a few who will not have to wear the standard armour. You are one of them Sjern, however you will be wearing the armour of a General. Come, it is your turn for choosing and fitting."

"My own armour will not do?" Sjern asked, pointing to the set of Dragonplate armour.

Jar'mey shook his head, turned around and clapped thrice. Two young looking Bosmer, an elderly Imperial woman and an Orc in a blacksmith's apron ran down the stairs. The two Bosmer had lengths of rope with them, presumably for measuring Sjern's height and width for the armour. The elderly woman had rolls of paper and sticks of charcoal with her and the Orc had several varieties of ingots with him.

"Greetings Dragonborn" the young Bosmer said simultaneously. "We are here to get your measurements for your armour."

Sjern nodded and stretched his arms out horizontally, allowing for them to measure him with the rope. The measuring took but a minute but still Sjern felt uneasy as they wound the rope around his waist, stretched it vertically up his full height, measured the circumference of his head and took several measurements of the width and length of his arms, legs and torso. Finally, when they were finished, they bowed and ran back up the stairs, measurements in hand. Next, the elderly lady stepped forward.

"Greetings Dragonborn, I am Therel. It is my duty to draw your ideal set of armour, no matter how long it takes. Now, we will start with the helm. Barrel, open with a visor, open without a visor, hooded with protection at the front or masked?"

Sjern thought for a moment. This was indeed the first time he was able to choose how he wanted his armour to look. He knew it should be fearsome to some degree but not distractingly so.

"Masked if you please." He replied, forming an idea in his head.

Therel smiled and nodded, picking up a piece of charcoal, she asked a second question.

"Normal mask or intricate?"

"I don't quite understand?" Sjern said, unsure of what she meant.

Therel showed no sign of impatience with him, which pleased Sjern.

"Intricate means you can have the mask shaped in a way that pleases you Dragonborn. Such as a wolf's head or a Daedra's snarl." 

Sjern nodded his head, berating himself for not understanding such a simple concept.

"Apologies Therel, if it would be possible to do so, I would like it to be in the form of horned dragon. As unsurprising as it may seem, I feel it would be fitting to enter the fray wearing a helm in the shape of those whose soul I am akin with."

Therel smiled widely and began sketching quickly. "Very good Dragonborn, very good. I believe your foes will quake in fear at the sight of you."

Sjern stood in silence, watching the elderly woman's hand dance across one of the rolls of paper. She did so for about ten minutes before looking up and smiling at him.

"I have sketched three possibilities for this Dragon Helm. But before you see them, we must decide what you would like your torso piece to be. Would you like it to jut out in places? Perhaps you want a simple plate armour yes? Or maybe plated but with a small design carved in? It is all up to you Dragonborn, how do you want your chestplate to look?"

Now Sjern was truly stumped. Plate armour seemed the best option but not all materials could be smoothed out to make plate armour and he didn't want to go into battle in steel armour. Daedric weapons would cut through it like a knife through a cheese wheel. Turning to the Orc, Sjern voiced his doubts over this.

"I am no ordinary smith, Dragonborn. I am a true master of metals and can forge them to suit any need. Do not take possibility of forging into account but rather take possibility of it saving your life into account."

The Orc's words reassured Sjern who now knew what he wanted.

"I would like plate armour please, but with the emblem of Skyrim's army emblazoned on the front and a black hooded cloak attached to the neck around the back."

Therel nodded, sketching as he spoke.

"Very well, the mask shall be smaller around the back of the head to accommodate the hood of the cloak. Now, onto the final pieces, the boots, gauntlets and greaves. I assume you have no major preference. Though you seem to have an affinity for the dragon look, perhaps the gauntlets could be styled after a Daedric gauntlet, you know, with the sharply tipped fingers but still functional. The boots will be simple plate boots with a tapered tip and the greaves will be reinforced chainmail with leather underneath."

She seemed to be talking to Sjern but it was clear she was merely voicing this out in her own head. Nonetheless, Sjern was happy with the verbal description of his new armour. He only hoped that it would be suitable for battle and not just be ceremonial.

"Thank you very much Dragonborn. I will have our Orc friend here get to work on it right away."

Sjern bowed and thanked Therel who picked up the rolls of paper and scurried away. Finally, the Orc stepped forward.

"Now you will choose the metal in which you want your armour and weapon to be made from Dragonborn."

Sjern immediately cut him off.

"Weapon? I have a weapon my friend."

The Orc smirked, looking at the weapons on the wall.

"I know you do Dragonborn, many you have forged yourself and others that you have found. But as skilled as you are with them, they are not perfect for you. I have seen you sparring with the Companions enough to know this. Do not fret, it is rare that a true hero will find a weapon that is completely perfect. Those who do usually come to me or my brother for this request. I will ensure that you have your mighty blade Dragonborn, as strange as it may seem, I will know just how the handle should settle into your hand, how the blade should be tempered to perfection and how the cross-guard should be weighted so that you will never be carried forward by any attack you make with this weapon."

Sjern was a little uneasy at the idea of a new sword. But if it would allow him to battle to the best of his abilities, he would make the transition.

"On to more pressing matters however, the metal that you would like for your armour. I have with me here Iron, Steel, Dwarven, Moonstone, Corundum, Silver, Quicksilver, Malachite, Ebony, Daedra Hearts and Dragon Bones. The last one really took some getting. Now, as inclined as you might be to go for Daedric or Dragon Bone, allow me to show you a little trick that my grandfather has taught me. Do you mind if I cast a spell in here?"

Sjern shook his head, eager to see what this trick would be. The Orc took an Ebony ingot, a Daedra Heart, a Dragon Bone and a Malachite ingot. Rubbing his hands together, a blue flame engulfed his hands, much like the silver flames engulfed Infernus'. Waving his hands over the different materials in a large circle, Sjern had to shield his eyes when a small explosion went off, bright flames rising from the table.

"By the Nine! What do you think you are doing?" Sjern asked, removing his arm from his face.

To answer his question, the Orc smith merely held up a solitary ingot of black, red and blue.

"Many alchemists have claimed to hold the power to turn coal into gold. I surpass all of them. I hold the knowledge and the skill to create the lightest, most powerful and rarest metal to ever come into existence on Nirn. I hold the ability, Dragonborn, to forge what I call Divine Steel. Myself and mine ancestors are the only ones who know how to create and work this metal. It was a gift from Lord Malacath to my grandfather's grandfather for his wonderful mastery of all metals. He showed him how to create Divine Steel and how to work it. This knowledge was then passed down from generation to generation. Now, it will make its stand as the armour of the High King and of the Dragonborn."

Sjern was amazed by what the Orc had just done. He had taken four materials and crafted something that he could only describe as out of this world and the Orc wanted Sjern to wear armour made of it? Surely he was unworthy of such an honour.

"I take from your silence that this metal is to your liking? I shall create enough for two sets of armour, two shields and one blade. The High King has already found his perfect blade. I bid thee farewell Dragonborn, your armour should be ready within the week."

Sjern bowed once again, bidding the Orc a good day. When he was finally left alone downstairs, he simply shrugged.

"Guess I don't need armour then. Maybe a weapon until my new blade comes however."

Taking the Daedric War Axe from the wall once more, he swung it around a bit. Hooking it onto his belt, he sighed once more before going back up to his companions.

_Damned writer's block has struck again my friends. I've taken 3-4 days to write this out and I'm a little disappointed by it to be honest. However, while it covers basically nothing of the main story, at least time has elapsed and we know that preparations for war are going ahead. As always, if you guys see any problems at all don't hesitate to point them out to me. I encourage you to be nit picky with this story guys otherwise the little details that annoy you could resurface. Thanks again for reading guys. Talos guide you all! Peace. _


	11. Chapter 10

The Heart of a Daedra

By The Grey Knight

Chapter 24:

A few hours later, Sjern walked back through the doors of Proudspire once more. Dropping the sack of food supplies that he had gone out to get, he noticed that the front hall was empty. Dropping the sack of supplies, Sjern drew the Daedric War Axe and got into a crouched position. Carefully making his way over to the stairs, he decided to check the downstairs first only to find it devoid of any life. Then, with a moment of realisation, Sjern quietly whispered

"Laas Yah Nir!"

The Aura Whisper Shout was one of his lesser used Shouts but still came in handy in situations such as these. The Shout revealed there to be three moving entities upstairs. Taking reassurance that it was his friends, Sjern shouted up to them that he was home, getting a greeting shouted down to him.

'_Why am I so on edge all of a sudden?' _Sjern asked of himself. _'Maybe it's just the impending war we have to fight. Yeah that's it.' _

Storing each of the food items in their respective containers, he cast a mild Frostbite spell at the bottom of the two barrels that held the fish and meats. Happy that they should stay cold for a few days at least, he tossed the now empty sack into a corner and trotted up the stairs. As the Aura Whisper Shout had revealed, Infernus, Shadowfang and Knight Zacharias were all upstairs. The Knight was sitting down, his arms folded and his steel blade on the table. Infernus was showing Shadowfang how to control her fire spell to a point that she could summon a tiny flame to burn naught else but a dry leaf. While she was still Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold, it was evident that Infernus was the greater Pyromancer by far. Then again, he had been using and killing with fire for years on end. Even so, he was still proficient with his Blades' Sword and could move around the house without a single sound being made.

"Dragonborn, welcome home!" Shadowfang reiterated, lifting her focus from the small flame and setting Infernus' hood on fire. "Oops, sorry Infernus."

Putting the flame out casually, as if he were waving a strand of hair from his eyes, the Breton dismissed her apology and greeted Sjern in the same way.

"I understand that your new armour has been commissioned Dragonborn. I sincerely hope that it does you well in battle."

"As do I Infernus, as do I." Sjern replied.

"On a side note Dragonborn, a courier called to the door and handed this in for you. He said it was from the Jarl of Morthal. Something to do with a vampire issue or something like that so we told him you'd be right over. Don't fret, we'll watch the house for you."

Sjern nodded and walked back upstairs to his room. Grabbing a bag filled with magicka and health potions, he chose to forgo any armour and rely on magicka instead. A small knock on the door startled him and he spun, his uneasiness taking control once again.

"I just wanted to ask if you wanted any help or company on this trip." Shadowfang asked. "I'm good at dealing with vampires and I have a strange feeling that my sister may be there. If she is, you will need help Dragonborn."

"Aye that he will. Nothing like a good flame to reduce some vampiric scum to ashes eh?" Infernus quipped from behind her.

"I thought you said you were going to watch the house?" Sjern said to the Pyromancer, stuffing a cheese roll into the bag.

"Nah, killing the undead is way more fun than house-sitting. Also, if Ol Ebonyclaw here is right and we do meet her sister, well a little extra help never burned anyone, did it?"

"I'm coming along too Dragonborn. It has been to long since we last travelled together and as loathe as I am to claim I enjoy killing, if it is causing havoc in these lands then I will do what is necessary to stop it." Came the voice of Knight Zacharias.

Sjern nodded firmly to his friends.

"Very well, we leave in fifteen minutes. Pack only the essentials and meet me outside the Solitude Gates."

With his travelling bag over his shoulder, Sjern strode out the door and towards the main gate of Solitude. As he walked however, he saw three men in strange yellow-orange robes with masks on, talking to one of the guards, who then pointed over at Sjern. Gripping the handle of the Daedric War Axe, Sjern stood ready to attack as the three men walked over.

"Are you the one they call Dragonborn?" The leader asked.

"Aye, what can I do for you?" Sjern replied tentatively.

"It's quite simple really. You can fall dead at our master's feet you imposter! There is only one true Dragonborn!"

When he said this, the other two men drew small daggers, raised them high and shouted "FOR MIRAAK!" before lunging at Sjern.

Not having enough time to unhook his axe right away, Sjern stepped forward and kicked the leader of the strange men backwards, tripping the other two over. Having bought himself some time, he pulled out the Daedric Axe and swung for one of the men. Catching him at the base of the skull, the sharp edge of the War Axe buried itself in his head with a sickening crack of the man's skull. Wrenching the axe from his scalp, Sjern spun on the spot and hacked at the second man, who had just gotten to his feet, in one swift movement. Once again, the sharp edge of the Daedric Axe cut deep into flesh and bone as it cut through the man's neck, decapitating him.

The final man, the leader, had recuperated from the kick by this stage. However, seeing how easily his brethren had been cut down, he turned tail and began to run away from Sjern. Shaking his head sorrowfully, Sjern threw the War Axe with great precision, burying it in the man's spine. Walking over to him, he pulled the War Axe out of the man's back and placed one foot on the wound, causing him to scream in pain through his mask.

"Who sent you?" Sjern demanded. "Who, in the name of all that is holy, is Miraak?"

The man merely coughed once and screamed out once more.

"Forgive me Lord Miraak! I have failed you!"

With those final words, he breathed his last and his body went limp. Taking his foot off of the man, Sjern ran his hand through his hair and shook his head. Checking the man's robe pockets, he found a note ordering them to come to Skyrim and slay Sjern. The note had his name on him and addressed him as the 'False Dragonborn', something that caught Sjern's eye.

'_In the name of the Nine, who are these people?' _Sjern thought as he crumpled up the note.

Knowing of only one sea captain who would ever sail to Solstheim, Sjern made up his mind that as soon as the war with the Daedra was over, he would travel to Solstheim and find out what these people wanted with him.

_Another very short and very uninteresting chapter. This one basically sets up the sequel story which should be very obvious from what just happened to Sjern. I'm sorry this one took so long but the damned block won't leave my mind. Thanks for reading guys! Talos guide you all. Peace._


End file.
